


I See, I Hear

by Dragestil



Series: Bows and Bullets [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 21:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragestil/pseuds/Dragestil
Summary: Jesse pays far more attention to Hanzo than he is given credit for, but finally it is noticed.





	I See, I Hear

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to see more of my work, please visit my [Tumblr](http://dragestil.tumblr.com)

Hanzo was tired. There was no two ways about it. He had, for the umpteenth time, kept himself up late practicing. He always said training was meditative and cleared his mind, but Jesse knew better. He could almost feel the emotional burdens being channeled into every draw of the bowstring. He never said anything, though. What could he even say? He wasn’t the best with responding to emotions, and Hanzo was potentially worse still. But this was getting out of control.

As Hanzo finished his nightly training, he glanced furtively around. Jesse was nowhere in sight. He contemplated activating one of his target revealing arrows just to be sure of his solitude, but considered it too wasteful to be warranted. Instead of further surveillance, he dragged himself out of the training area and to the couch, where he gracelessly fell and let out a deep sigh as he sunk into the cushions. He meant to turn on the television to catch up with current affairs, but the remote was all the way on the coffee table, and he was so comfortable. ‘I’ll grab it in a second,’ he thought, even as his eyelids grew heavy.

Jesse watched from the doorway. How many nights ended like this? It would be easier to answer how many didn’t, if he was being honest with himself. He waited, leaning on the doorframe, for several minutes until the only movement from the couch was the steady rise and fall of Hanzo’s chest. Jesse took that as his sign, and crept into the room, socks softening his steps. He slowed to a crawl as he got close enough to touch the other man. He sighed quietly at the state of Hanzo, exhausted and with one arm hanging off the couch so his knuckles brushed the floor.

Jesse bent slightly and carefully slid one arm under Hanzo’s knees and the other under his shoulders. Hanzo shifted slightly, but did not wake, merely leaning into the new warmth that had lifted him from the couch. His entire body and mind were thoroughly exhausted enough to keep him asleep. His hair had come loose from its ties and dark strands fell across his face as Jesse carried him toward his bedroom. He looked simultaneously childlike and ancient as he slept. He stirred, though, when the movement stopped, and he grasped at the soft flannel shirt his cheek was pressed against.

“Easy there, partner,” Jesse hummed as he leaned down to set Hanzo gently on his bed.

Hanzo’s fingers still held fast to Jesse’s shirt, and Jesse worked to uncurl them one by one. It took some doing, but soon he had Hanzo halfway curled up on his side, covered by a warm blanket. Jesse smiled faintly before turning to head back to his own room. A hand caught his wrist and stopped him in his tracks.

“You did not need to do this,” Hanzo said, voice low and slow with lingering sleep.

“I know. Don’t need to do anything. But I wasn’t about to let you sleep on the couch. You’d be complaining all tomorrow about how you were sore. Don’t need you grumpier than usual,” jesse replied, turning back to smile at Hanzo.

“How did you even-”

“You aren’t heavy, Hanzo. I think you live off of honour and spite,” Jesse interjected.

The corner of Hanzo’s lips twitched and Jesse chuckled.

“Hanzo Shimada can smile?” Jesse asked with over-exaggerated shock.

“Thank you,” Hanzo replied, pointedly ignoring the jab. “You weren’t watching my training, were you?” he added after a moment’s thought.

“Course not. A man’s time alone in the gym is sacred,” Jesse assured. “Just saw you passed out on the couch and figured I could help.”

“You help. A lot,” Hanzo admitted, propping himself up with one arm and looking up to catch Jesse’s eye.

“Now I know you must be tired. Complimenting me? Have I gone crazy?”

“Do not make me repeat myself. I will not.”

Jesse only chuckled and smiled, nodding his head. He put a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder.

“I won’t tell anyone you care.”

Hanzo returned the smile after a moment of quiet, and put his free hand over Jesse’s. It was the closest thing to a moment of intimacy Jesse had ever seen from Hanzo, and it caught him off guard.

“It is okay regardless. Would anyone believe you if you did tell them?”

“That’s a mighty fine point you make there, Hanzo. They hardly believe me in general.”

Hanzo took a breath, collecting himself and his thoughts. He had been thinking ceaselessly as he practiced about moments like this, about how he and Jesse had grown to tolerate - and then more than just tolerate - each other over their time spent sharing a home. He would have denied even the possibility of such a thing if he had been asked ahead of time. But here he was, propped up in bed with Jesse McCree hovering above him with that ever present grin.

“They will not believe this either,” Hanzo finally said.

Before Jesse could respond, Hanzo reached up to grab Jesse’s shoulder. He pulled Jesse down as he himself sat up and pressed a sudden kiss to Jesse’s lips. For a moment after, there was only silence and the racing of Hanzo’s heart, but then Jesse let out a low whistle.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jesse said slowly, smiling. “I’m not sure I believe that one myself. Maybe you’ll just have to do it again as proof.”

“Do not push your luck,” Hanzo answered, even as he leaned back in for another kiss.

“I could get used to this,” Jesse murmured. “Turns out being attentive gets you rewards.”

“Stop talking before I grow to regret this. It is late and time for sleeping.”

“Fine, fine. But you better not pretend this didn’t happen come morning,” Jesse said, standing up straight and stretching. “Night, old man.”

“Good night, Jesse.”


End file.
